


Somewhere I Belong

by seductivembrace



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 07:04:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seductivembrace/pseuds/seductivembrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during <i>School Hard</i>. Spike hasn’t been happy with Drusilla since his true sire, Angelus, disappeared. A plan to escape her goes awry and the scene in the alley outside the Bronze goes a tad different. What happens when Angel finds out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a gift and takes liberties with canon.

Spike walked into the Bronze – what appeared to be the local teen hangout – with one purpose on his mind: kill the Slayer. Maybe then he could finally be free of Drusilla. Too long he’d looked after her, familial obligation keeping him at her side once Darla had gone running back to the Master in the wake of Angelus’ abandonment. 

To do that, he needed to study her, take her measure. See what he was up against. 

He inhaled deeply the scent of sweat and arousal that clouded the air in the dank facility. For all that this was the Hellmouth, their lack of a proper club – and the Bronze, with its sparse furnishings and garage-spawned band, was definitely _not_ a proper club – disgusted him. If he’d not been assured that this was where the girl hung out, he would have never set foot in the place. 

He spotted her right away, inexplicably drawn to her light. The lavender halter-top did very little to cover her sun-kissed skin. It made him want to rip the bloody thing off and run his tongue all over her – see if she tasted as hot as she looked. It shocked him, his reaction, and made him question his seeming devotion to his sire’s whims. Whether he could just outright kill the Slayer like he’d been ordered. 

When the dark-haired boy he’d seen flopping about on the dance floor came up and coaxed her and her redheaded friend to dance, Spike had seen red. He didn’t question his possessiveness towards the blonde Slayer. 

He just knew from the moment he’d laid his eyes on her that his plans for the girl had changed. That he’d be keeping her for himself. 

Sire be damned.

Spike walked around the perimeter of the dance floor, eyes never leaving the Slayer as she swayed to the beat, pert breasts bobbing in time to the music. He couldn’t help but be entranced by her moves, and knew instinctively that they would be so good together. 

Grabbing the nearest minion, Spike shoved him towards the exit with an order to feed, needing the distraction to draw the Slayer away from her friends. When the lackey was out of sight, Spike walked up to a guy standing near where the Slayer was dancing. 

“Where’s the phone? I need to call the police. There’s some big guy out there trying to bite somebody.” 

Right on cue, she took off for the exit leading into the alley, her little friends hot on her trail. He’d have to see about keeping them otherwise occupied – he was going to have his hands full with the Slayer. 

Rather than taking the same path as the others, Spike ran out the front door, and with a burst of vampiric speed, raced around towards the alley. Hidden amongst some crates, he witnessed firsthand the power contained within her compact body. His dick hardened against the front of his tight jeans as she easily fought off the fledge. 

“Get her out of here,” she shouted to her friends in between punches, indicating the victim she’d saved. The three took off running, back to the relative safety of the club, unable to hear the Slayer’s parting remark for a stake. He held back a laugh as the girl rolled her eyes, her disgruntled expression bringing a reluctant smile to his face. He settled in to watch her, to see if she had the moves it’d take, the ingenuity to think on her feet. Or, if she was just another carbon copy of past Slayers. 

Unworthy of being his.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy was really starting to get pissed off. It was just like her friends to disappear the one time she could really use some help. Not so much with the slaying, but with obtaining the instrument of said slaying. What she wouldn’t give for a stake right about now! 

_Oh, screw it._

She waited for the vampire to charge, timing her punch just right. Her fist ripped through his chest, her fingers closing around his unbeating heart and yanking it from his abdominal cavity. 

“Oh, that’s just gross,” she muttered before the thing disintegrated in her hand, along with the rest of his body. Her nose scrunched up as she wiped the dust from her top, grumbling under her breath about her mom bitching about the dirtiness of her clothing. 

The clapping took her by surprise, and she whirled around. The figure pushed himself away from the wall where he’d been leaning, his stride full of cockiness and swagger as he neared. He had to be the most gorgeous creature she’d ever seen. Even better looking than Angel. Those cheekbones…gah! The slicked-back platinum blond hair that just begged for her fingers to muss it up. Hottie alert at twelve o’clock! 

“Who are you?” she asked when she finally managed to gain her voice. 

“You’ll find out on Saturday.” 

“What happens on Saturday?” 

“I kill you,” he responded deadpan. 

Her mind finally registered the tinglies, indicating that a vampire stood before her. She’d been so caught up in ogling his body, she’d not paid the least bit of attention to her built-in early warning system – courtesy of the whole Slayer package. 

_Well, damn!_

She wasn’t sure if she was cussing because he was a vampire, or because she’d have to wait until Saturday to see him again. Like the good girl she was supposed to be, she told herself it was the former. Because he’s been thrust from her hottie column and possible dating material and stuffed into evil-undead-and-can’t-have-so-don’t-even-think-about-it-no-matter-how-goodlooking-he-is column. 

Life was _so_ unfair sometimes. 

She masked her disappointment as he moved away, turning her back on him to sneak back inside the club. 

A huge mistake. 

One that easily lead to her capture. 

The breath was momentarily knocked out of her as she was slammed up against the brick wall, the blond vampire easily pinning her in place with his body. He gripped her wrists and pulled them together and above her head. Using one hand to hold them in place, the other fisted in her hair to yank her head to the side. 

“W-what about Saturday,” Buffy managed to gasp out, disbelieving that she’d been caught so unaware, and was now about to pay for her inattentiveness with her life. 

“I lied,” he whispered in her ear, his tongue tracing the outer shell. 

Buffy couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips at his touch. How she unwittingly arched against him. 

“Oh…you’ll do, pet,” he told her, and she had but a moment to wonder what he was referring to before his fangs tore into her neck. 

Buffy tried to pull away, but the huge gulps of her blood he took quickly drained her strength. She slumped against the wall, held in place by his grip upon her wrists and the way his body molded into her backside. She drifted along in a haze, her body getting weaker and weaker by the moment. Images of her mother – her face at finding out about her daughter’s calling and the cause of her untimely death; her friends – whom she’d known such a short time but had come to care for so deeply; her watcher – the kindly British man that was so fun to tease, flashed before her mind as she began to lose consciousness. She started as he removed his fangs from her neck, feeling oddly bereft at the sudden loss of contact. 

A bloodied wrist was thrust in front of her face, and she stared helplessly at the red that marred his flesh. 

“Drink me, Slayer,” he murmured, his lips hovering near her ear. “Taste me. Let me be what you long for.” Images blurred until they were replaced by one. His. 

The husky timbre of his voice struck a cord within her. Made her tongue dart out to lick the drops of crimson pooling on his wrist. She didn’t balk at the taste, instead the power of his blood seemed to call to her. Ensured that she’d wrap her lips around the jagged cut he’d apparently made with his fang and drink deeply. 

“That’s it, pet. Drink. Know that you’ll be mine.” 

Then he was back at her throat, drinking deeply, long after her mouth fell slack upon his wrist. 

~*~*~*~*~

With the last beat of her heart, Spike swung her up in his arms, cradling her body close. He was about to make his escape, when he felt the pull of family near the entrance to the alley. 

_Angelus._

His amber gaze zeroed in on his grandsire. Took note of his elder’s despair. Darla had explained his absence away – delighting in ridiculing her childe’s curse of a soul. It had angered a fledgling William. Anger towards the bitch his great-grandsire had been, and anger at thinking that a mere soul should keep Angelus from his family. _From him_. His sire’s departure had been a tough blow for Spike to handle, suddenly having Drusilla thrust on him on a regular basis. Both of the Aurelian vampiresses, actually. 

He hated to admit it, but he missed his grandsire. Angelus had been the one to mold him. To introduce him to the pleasures of the flesh – Dru being too sickly to see properly to his education. Spike remembered fondly the years he’d spent hunting at Angelus’ side, until he’d disappeared to Romania, and eventually been cursed by gypsies. He’d come back, though, and Spike had been thrilled to have his family together once again. But, it hadn’t lasted long. And it seemed like it had only been days before Angelus had disappeared once more. For good. 

Only now he was back. 

Hidden in the shadows of the alley, Spike waited to see what the elder vampire would do. There was no way he was giving up his new childe without a fight. To the death, if need be. He just hoped it wouldn’t come to that. That Angelus would finally come home. Return to his family where he belonged. 

~*~*~*~*~

Angel moved a little deeper into the alley. He knew Spike was there. Felt the pull of his wayward grandchilde. The scent of death was overwhelming, the faint trace of blood a seductive lure that called to him. Only it was different this time. Not the bland smell of just any old human, though. Not for Spike. 

It nearly crippled him, her destruction. She’d been his beacon. Her shining light had kept him from wallowing in the dank gutters where he’d spent the last eighty-odd years. Now she was gone. 

Killed by Spike. His William. 

His soul cried out at her death. Her life snuffed way before her time because she’d been the Chosen One. Her duty: to slay the creatures that went bump in the night. Only, she’d met her match in Spike. 

The one vampire that refused to hide from the Slayer. Instead seeking them out, pitting his skills against theirs. 

Angel envied him, even while he hated him. 

But loved him still. 

“You killed her,” he accused, unmindful of the emotions he was showing Spike, his defeat at not being able to save Buffy in time. 

“’s what I do,” came the cocky voice from the cover of darkness. He made no apologies to his sire. Felt no regret. 

“You killed her.” His voice, louder this time. Despair consuming him as his one shot at redemption withered away. 

Spike stepped into the light, his grip on the Slayer tightening possessively, Angel noticed. 

“I gave her life!” he shouted back. 

“ _Life_?! You call this life?” Angel gesticulated wildly, pointing to Spike’s face that still sported his demon. To his own that had shifted to better see in the darkness. “This isn’t life.” 

“Give it up, Angelus,” his tone telling the elder that there was no way he was going to listen to any souled-up tirades Angelus might be inclined to impart. 

“I can’t,” he whispered brokenly, collapsing against the wall as the weight of the Slayer’s death suddenly hit him. At what she’d soon become. A demon, like him. Only not. Like Spike. Spike’s childe. Another addition to the Aurelian clan. 

“I know about the soul,” Spike told him as he drew near, towering over his grandsire as he sat upon the ground, his head leaning wearily against the wall. “Darla, that bloody bitch, took great delight in ridiculing your plight.” 

“I tried to come back…make it work. I jus’…I just couldn’t,” he whispered. His hands fisted in his hair and he fought against the weight of his soul, unable to meet what he was sure were accusing blue eyes. After all, he’d effectively abandoned William to them. 

Looking down at his sire, Spike struggled with feelings he’d thought long buried. The anger and betrayal. Love and hate.

“We coulda’ gone away.” 

The softly spoken words forced Angel to look up. To see the hurt his leaving had done to his boy. 

“We coulda’ gone away…you and me. I woulda’ looked after you. You didn’t have to leave.” _Me._ The last word implied, but not spoken. 

“I thought it would be better... You didn’t need me anymore. Hell, you’d just killed your first Slayer.” 

Spike just stared at Angelus, saying nothing. He started to move away, eager to be off to find a place to while away the coming dawn and wait for his childe’s rebirth. At the edge of the darkened alley, he paused. 

“It’s time to come home, Angelus. Back where you belong,” he called out over his shoulder. 

“I can’t,” Angel whispered. Only Angel knew how much he wanted to say yes. To be a part of his boy’s life once more. 

“You know how to find me if you change your mind. I’ll not be at the factory for a bit. Don’t wanna have to hear the ‘Annoyin’ One’ yammerin’ about me turnin’ the Slayer here.” 

Then he was gone, disappearing into the night. The elusive scent of childe drifting over Angel’s senses, urging him to follow. To go home. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Spike took the Slayer to a rundown motel on the far side of town, as far away as he could get from the warehouse where he’d shacked up with Drusilla. It wasn’t his first choice, what with all the little happy meals in such close proximity, but he really didn’t have a lot of time to scout around for a more suitable location. And besides, it brought a whole new meaning to the term “delivery service,” and the demon that ran the joint would be inclined to look the other way if a guest or two went missing. 

With a little finagling, he managed to get the door open, kicking it closed behind him with a booted heel. His blue eyes took in the queen-sized bed, the sparse furnishings that dotted the room, and couldn’t help the self-depreciating smile that graced his full lips. However, it was a damn sight better than where he himself had been sired, his mind quickly recalling the deserted alleyway that had been the spot of his rebirth. 

His body left for dead by his would-be sire, only to be found and later buried. It had been a right bitch clawing his way out of the grave, his mind ignoring his body’s lack of need to breathe. His knuckles had been worn raw, and Spike remembered the first moment he’d cleared the ground, his body heaving with exertion. She’d been waiting for him, clapping giddily as she twirled about in a circle, muttering about pixies and tea parties and such. 

But she’d given him eternal life, and for that, he’d been grateful. Determined to stick it out with the nutcase. Drusilla – he’d later learned her name – had shown him how to feed. A nearly botched attempt as she muttered and rambled on, to where he’d finally taken matters into his own hands and gone on instinct to get the job done. He was just about to throw up his hands in disgust, say to hell with her and that he’d find his own way, when she’d twirled around him, muttering about her “daddy.” 

“Oh, William, it will be _wonderful_. Our own special family. You’ll see.” 

He’d rolled his eyes, but had followed her, nevertheless. Was glad that he had when he finally caught sight of the dark-haired male vampire lurking in the doorway. Their eyes had locked and a bolt of what William would soon learn was lust drew his body taut with awareness. 

Angelus had confused him then. A disdainful mask covering the blaze of desire that had flared briefly in his eyes. 

_“You’re not cross with me, are you?” Drusilla whimpered._

_“Cross?” Angelus asked a bit confused. A gleam came into his eyes, then, and his hand had snaked out in the blink of an eye and gripped William’s arm, holding it in the path of the sun’s rays. “Do you have any idea what it’s like having nothing but women as travel companions, night in and night out?”_

_William tore his hand from the other’s grasp. “Touch me again—”_

_“Don’t mistake me. I do love the ladies. It’s just lately... I’ve been wondering...” Angelus spoke nonchalantly, holding his own arm in front of the beam. “…what it’d be like... to share the slaughter of innocents... with another man. Don’t think that makes me some kind of a deviant, hmm? Do you?”_

_William heard the challenge in his voice, saw it in his eyes and had matched the other vampire’s action, the smell of their sizzling flesh goading them to a heinous laughter. His sire was forgotten as William formed a bond with the male vampire in that moment._

_“Oh ho! I like this one! You and me, we’re gonna be the best of friends.”_

Drusilla had interrupted their joint laughter, going into a crazed fit upon realizing that her “grandmum” had departed. She’d raced to her room, muttering under her breath about spoiled tea parties and how Miss Edith had told her so. William had watched the batty girl hurry away, and something told him to go after her, but the steel grip on his wrist stopped him in his tracks. 

“Let ‘er go. She gets like that sometimes.” 

His gaze was drawn away from her retreating back to collide with the dark brown eyes of the male vampire. That steamy look was back and William swallowed reflexively – the newness of his recently changed status going a long way towards inhibiting the natural tendencies of his demon. 

But Angelus had drawn him out. Had introduced him to the pleasures of the flesh that even now left Spike yearning for his touch. His cock and fangs buried so deep he didn’t know where one ended and the other began. The way the elder vamp would drape his larger frame around his after their shagfest. 

Spike missed that most of all. 

The calm after the storm. 

When they just held each other close, dual purrs of satisfaction rumbling from their chest. 

Angelus had shown him what it meant to be a vampire, Drusilla, too often in one of her spells to instruct him properly. Darla, ever at the whim of the Master. 

Neither he nor Angelus had seemed to mind. Actually, they’d looked forward to their time alone together, their growing affection hidden from the two women when they deigned to make their presence felt over their respective childer. 

When Angelus had left, it had torn at Spike’s heart. The deep void left by his absence making him cling to Drusilla when he would have left her – his need for family overcoming his desire to flee the crazed vampiress that had made him. 

Now that the two had once more crossed paths, Spike could only hope that Angelus would come. 

And that he’d stay… 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Gazing down at her nude body resting so peacefully on the bed, Spike knew he’d chosen well. His eyes roamed over her small pert breasts, the flat abdomen and tiny waist that flared slightly at her hips. The lean limbs that had hidden her power so easily. 

He couldn’t wait for her to awaken. His cock chaffed against the steel of his crotch, his zipper refusing to accommodate the sudden swelling of his shaft at the sight of his childe. 

With impatient strokes, he shrugged out of his leather duster. The red button down and black t-shirt soon followed. He plopped his ass in the lone chair of the room, his fingers impatiently working the lacings free of his boots. 

Spike stood up, one hand going to the button on the front of his pants when he felt his presence. Angelus. He’d come. He stood, rooted to the spot, his eyes gazing longingly towards the door, praying that he’d knock, knowing just as surely that Angelus knew that he, also, was aware of the other’s presence. 

Angelus had been the one to leave; it would have to be Angelus that would have to take that final step. To want to come back. To be with him. 

Spike was prepared to wait all night if necessary. 

When it finally came – the tentative grazing of knuckles against wood – he almost didn’t hear it. So fixated on _wanting_ him to do it, that when it finally happened, he seemed to second-guess the sound. The second rap was slightly louder, and Spike was across the room and had the door flung open before Angelus could pull his hand back to his side. 

The two stared at one another. Neither moving. 

Scared that the other would turn away in rejection. 

The emotion was there, however. Burning brightly as they devoured each other with hungry gazes. The tension mounted until; finally, Spike could take in no longer. Uttering the words that had Angelus flying across the threshold and pinning him against the wall, their mouths fused together in a searing kiss that expressed everything the other felt. 

Hurt. Betrayal. Want. Need. Love. Family. 

Through it all, they were each other’s family. 

And they could overlook all the pain because of it. Because they’d managed to find their way back to each other. 

_“Welcome home, Sire.”_

~*~*~*~*~ 

Faces changed with neither of them realizing. Their fangs nicking tongues. Dual groans erupted as they tasted each other’s blood – Angelus’ louder as he caught the taste of the Slayer’s, even if it _had_ been Buffy’s. Yet they wanted – nay, needed – more. They tore apart, Spike’s chest heaving needlessly with emotion, the humanistic gesture retained throughout the years. 

Their movements were synchronized, as if the mutual sharing of blood – of which they’d partaken often in the past – had happened just yesterday, instead of almost a century ago. As if they could obliterate the other’s scar, their fangs delved deep. Possessive growls filled the room as the two male vampires drank deeply of the blood freely offered. Bodies strained together, trying to get closer. 

Spike was in a state of euphoria. 

Angelus was back. And he was tasting him. His sire – his true sire. Soon, very soon, they’d be tearing at their clothing. 

Angel ripped his fangs from Spike’s throat – Spike quickly doing the same – so that he could tug frantically at the clothes covering their bodies. He couldn’t prevent his hands from shaking. From need, from nervousness – he knew not. His hands fumbled with the shirt buttons, and when he grew frustrated and would have torn the garment from his frame, another pair of hands were there. Lovingly shoving his aside and finishing the job he couldn’t. 

The pair slid to the floor. One naked, the other nearly so. Impatience was eating at both of them, goading them on to complete this final bonding. But they resisted the lure, wanting to savor the moment. Prolong their bittersweet reunion. 

Spike’s hands were everywhere at once. There wasn’t one spot left untouched, needing to reacquaint himself with his sire. To find each spot that made the elder’s eyes burn brighter as his body was overcome with lust. When Angelus was nothing more than a helpless, quivering mass, his body teetering on the edge of release by his childe’s touch alone, Spike took pity on him and wrapped his lips around the engorged cock jutting from the dark curls at his groin. 

Angel surged into Spike’s mouth, his fingers automatically gripping the short blond locks and holding him in place. 

“William! My sweet boy,” he babbled inanely. After that initial thrust, he struggled to hold his body still, allowing Spike to set the pace. How much of him Spike took into his mouth. His eyes rolled up, his face a mask of pure ecstasy as the other swallowed around his cock, throat muscles squeezing his length, the tongue that flicked along the veins on the underside of his shaft as he slowly withdrew – only to repeat the maneuver again and again, until Angel was ready to explode in his mouth. 

“Off,” Angel managed to gasp out. “Take them off…wanna be…wanna be inside you…need to be…” 

Spike continued to suck, but one hand managed to work the fastenings of his jeans, his jerky movements assisting his lone appendage in removing that final barrier. 

Angel felt the movements and managed to pry his childe’s mouth off his dick, hissing slightly in pain-filled pleasure when sharp teeth dragged along his length at the abrupt gesture. Then he was throwing Spike to his back, quickly divesting him of the black jeans that’d he’d managed to lower to mid-thigh, tossing the offending item behind him. 

From his kneeling position between Spike’s parted legs, Angel lowered his body until they were lying chest to chest, their straining cocks brushing against each other’s. Angel lay like that, unmoving, nearly overcome with emotion at finally being reunited with his lover of long ago. The separated halves finally made whole. His eyes lifted briefly to the girl laid out on the bed. The girl he’d thought would redeem him. 

The feeling of jealousy came unbidden. That she now had some claim to his boy. That his sweet William had his own childe now, one that would demand his time… and other things. A possessive growl resounded deep in his chest, causing Spike to raise his hands to his sire’s face and force Angelus to look at him. 

“Mine,” Spike growled, indicating the Slayer. Angel’s eyes flicked to amber, clearly not liking the other’s claim. 

Spike’s eyes soften at his sire’s jealousy, even while inside he thrilled at the elder vamp’s show of affection. 

“Mine,” Angel yelled at Spike.

“Yes,” Spike answered without equivocation. Seeing Angelus’ confused expression, he elaborated. “I will have both. Both you and the Slayer. We will be as it should have been. She will love us both, just as I will love you both.” 

Deep brown eyes reclaimed dominance upon Angel’s features, boring into the deep blue of his childe’s. “You love me? After everything I’ve done… everything I put you through?” 

“I loved you even when I hated you. When I wanted to seek you out and stake you for leaving me with those two manipulative bitches.” 

“I’m sorry… I just didn’t think… I couldn’t kill anymore. I still can’t…” 

“I know,” Spike whispered softly, his thumb rubbing his sire’s cheek in a soothing gesture. 

“And you still want me?” Angel couldn’t help but ask.


	2. Chapter 2

Instead of answering, Spike continued to stroke his thumb against his sire’s cheek, then lifted his upper body so that he could brush his lips over Angel’s.

Angel groaned at the connection and quickly became consumed with lust – with love – as he deepened the kiss and lowered them back down to the floor.

Though both were near desperate now, their bodies raging at them for completion, neither seemed in any hurry to end the kiss. It was a favorite pastime of the two male vamps – kissing. Hours could be spent on the manipulation of lips and tongue as they tried to convey what the other meant to them. 

Going against every vampiric edict, the two males had formed a bond over a century ago, and nothing, not even Angel’s desertion, or Spike’s killing of the girl that was to have been Angel’s salvation, could break it. 

“William,” Angel groaned, finally tearing his mouth away from Spike and peppering kisses along his jaw. “Gotta have you now.”

A nod of assent given. 

A sharp incisor to a wrist. Crimson fluid coating a cock pulsing with borrowed blood. 

Then Angel was sliding home – not stopping until the front of his thighs rested intimately against that of his childe’s upturned flank.

Spike hissed through his teeth at the pain of his sire’s invasion. Since Angelus had disappeared without a trace, he’d let no other dominate him, not even Drusilla. It hadn’t seemed right. What he and Angelus had shared had been too important, too special, to be sullied by the vampiress’ attention.

He craved the pain, the slight tearing that caused him to bleed, unsure as to whether he should relax his muscles thereby easing his sire’s entry, or remain ridged beneath him and revel in the sting of protesting flesh. The decision was taken out of his hands when he happened a glance at Angelus’ face, noted with satisfaction and wonder the look of supreme bliss that transformed the other’s features – his body melted into the carpet.

“William, me boy,” Angel groaned in a voice so heavily accented it was a wonder Spike could understand him at all. “So verra verra good you feel.” 

His hand wrapped around his Spike’s cock and slowly stroked him in time to his own movements. Angel wanted to prolong their joining, but he’d not had sex in so long, and the feel of his boy squeezing him so tight…

“Sorry, boy… can’t…” His demon visage burst forth without warning, too far gone in pleasure to exert the necessary control to restrain it.

_‘Can’t what?’_ Spike thought. _‘Can’t come?’_  

Oh god, he hoped not, because Angelus was thrusting into him hard and fast now, continuously brushing over that sweet spot deep inside him, his hand jerking hard on Spike’s cock. That he was managing to stave off his orgasm was a testament to his willpower and a desire to please his sire.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t above begging.

“Please, Angelus.”

Spike felt the cool rush of liquid flood his passage as his sire found his release, and whimpered in agony.

“Please,” he begged again.

It was the second please that broke through the haze that had surrounded Angel, hips thrusting spasmodically as he poured himself inside his lover. His eyes opened and looked down at the picture his childe made. The younger vamp’s face was wreathed in a mask of pain-filled pleasure, fangs digging into his bottom lip where he wrestled with himself not to come.

“Come with me, sweet boy,” Angel whispered. 

And that was all it took for Spike to give in to his body’s demands. Coating his pale, bare stomach as well as his sire’s hand with his spendings. 

Thoroughly sated, the two lovers collapsed against each other onto the worn carpet.

“God, I missed ye, Will,” Angel confessed and drew Spike into his arms. They nuzzled together, neither willing to let the other go just yet. 

Eventually, reality intruded and Angel spoke.

“It’s gonna be light soon. You’ll need to get some blood for your childe,” he said matter-of-factly. “The two of us alone are not going to be able to slake her thirst.”

Spike nodded and made to pull away to throw some clothes on, but Angelus’ grip tightened about him, holding him in place. He lifted his head to look at his sire as his face shifted back into his human mask, a silent question on his face. He watched as the demon retreated, took note of the wariness of his brown gaze.

“I’ve a…” Angel hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should make the offer. “I’ve an arrangement with the local hospital,” he said finally, and seeing no signs of disdain upon Spike’s face, proceeded. “He keeps me supplied in human blood and I make sure none of the workers get hurt during deliveries. We could…”

“Alright.”

“Just like that?” Angel asked, confused.

Spike leaned up and brushed his lips lightly over his sire’s.

“Told ya. I love you. If this is what it takes… well, come on… time’s a wastin’.” 

Spike gave Angelus another hard peck to the mouth and pulled away. Rising quickly to grab his discarded clothing. 

Angel was a little bit slower, stealing glances at Spike while he dressed, as if unable to believe that his childe was there, that they were together again. 

And that Spike seemed willing to bag it for him. At least for now.

Finally dressed, Angel forced himself not to let out a possessive growl when Spike sat on the bed next to the Slayer and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She didn’t react to his touch; it would be a while yet before she rose. He felt guilty for the jealousy that seemed to be eating at him, even though he didn’t have the right. He’d been the one to walk away, to disappear without a trace. Leaving his boy alone, and as he’d come to find out, doubting of his love.

But, he’d never stopped. 

As the years slipped by and he struggled under the oppressive weight of the soul he’d been cursed with, he’d often dream about Spike and wonder what he was doing. If he’d moved on, forgotten him.

That he hadn’t, that Spike loved him still... 

Angel vowed right then that he’d be worthy of it. He’d make this work – the three of them.

He loved his boy. And a part of him had loved Buffy. She’d been his guiding light in a sea of murkiness. Now, he’d be hers. Between him and Spike, he’d help her cope with what she’d become.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike rose from the bed, and without a word, the two vampires disappeared into the night. Angel led the way since he was familiar with the city, and the route they’d need to take to avoid detection. Like Spike had said, the Anointed One wasn’t going to be happy that the Slayer wasn’t dead, was, in fact, now one of them. Her blood would have gone a long way in aiding his cause. Only now… now she was the childe to an unpredictable master vampire. One all but mated to an ensouled vampire bent on balancing the scales to the side of good.

To say them being discovered could have dire consequences was an understatement. Angel would not rest easy until they were once more secured behind the relative safety of Spike’s hotel room.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike held the ice chest filled with blood with one hand as it rested on his shoulder, using the other to fiddle in his pocket for the room key. His fingers finally closed on the piece of plastic and he pulled it out and tossed it to Angelus so that his sire could open the door. Once inside, he set the chest down near the bed.

It was nearly dawn, and with the Slayer’s blood filling his veins, and his body sated after the frenzied lovemaking with his sire, the pull of sleep was too powerful for Spike to resist. For the second time that night, his clothes were shucked with all possible haste. Before Angelus could even think to object, he’d had his sire’s jacket and shirt discarded and was quickly working on the fastening of his pants, letting them slide down the Angelus’ legs to pool at his feet. Spike knelt down and removed shoes and pants, then led them towards the bed. He slid in first and pulled his sire in behind him, so that he lay in the middle between him and the Slayer. Settling the covers over all three of them, he curled into his sire and nuzzled his chest, for the first time in a long while, content.

“Love you, Angelus,” he mumbled with his eyes closed, already halfway to slumber.

“Love you too, Will,” Angel replied as he wrapped his arms around his childe and drew him even closer.

It was a long while before Angel slept. Too many thoughts plagued his mind to allow him to sleep just yet. The watcher’s reaction. Her friends’. Buffy’s rising. The adjustments they’d all have to make. 

Eventually, though, he drifted off, and surprisingly, his worries about the future didn’t plague his dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

The hunger forced her out of a dreamless slumber, and she lay there unmoving, trying to figure out where she was… and why she was so darn hungry. 

Sounds drifted over her, so crystal clear that they seemed to overwhelm her at first. Eyes still closed, she forced herself to calm down and notice other things. 

Like the fact that she just _knew_ it was near dusk. 

The putrid smell of stale sex that lingered in the room and made her nose crinkle in distaste. 

How she knew she wasn’t alone. 

And beneath it all was the unconscious thought of how very hungry she was. 

Buffy opened her eyes, staring at the cracked ceiling above her before lowering her gaze to the pale arm wrapped possessively around her middle. Her bare middle… 

She was completely naked beneath the covers, she suddenly realized. 

She was all set to start panicking, could feel a full-blown hyperventilation coming on, when she noticed she _wasn’t_ breathing. She began to shake uncontrollably and forced herself to seek out the identity of the arm wrapped around her. Her head turned ever so carefully to the left, and she nearly gasped at the man asleep next to her. It was the blond from the alley. The hottie… 

…who was a vampire. 

It slammed into her then with a force of a freight train, everything that had happened in the alley. His clapping. How he’d said he’d see her on Saturday. The disappointment she’d felt, which had felt like a betrayal to Angel. His deception. The way his fangs had felt in her neck. The taste of him. Her eyes closed and she remembered drinking him. Unconsciously, her hands lifted to finger the puckered scar on her neck, gasping when she felt an answering throb deep within her body. 

When she opened them again, she found herself staring into his blue eyes. Found herself getting lost in his penetrating stare. She licked her lips, swallowing hard, as she forced herself not to buckle beneath his piercing gaze. 

“Hungry, pet?” he asked. 

Buffy could do nothing but nod helplessly. 

He smiled at her, and she smiled back. Hesitant. Unwilling to anger him. He’d been so volatile before and she didn’t want to see a return of that if she could help it. She liked him like this. He seemed almost soft. Open. 

Carefree, now that she thought about it. 

Buffy gasped when she felt herself pulled flush against his hard body. Naked. Just like her own. His cock pressed intimately against her belly. She groaned in pleasure for a second before abruptly cutting herself off, eyes going wide in embarrassment. 

Only to flutter shut a second later as he nuzzled her neck. 

When his fangs pierced her flesh, Buffy lost it; she rolled to her back and pulled him on top of her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him even closer. The throbbing between her legs intensified as he continued to suck at her neck, and she wiggled helplessly beneath him, trying to get him to fill her, to erase the ache he’d caused. 

There! 

Finally. 

She felt something hard brush against the folds of her sex, the instant rush of pleasure something she wanted repeated. Now. The second thrust drove him inside her a bit. She spread her legs a little, tilted her pelvis up so that she could feel more of him. Take more. She had to have all of him. Right now. 

Oblivious to the other lounging on his side next to them, his head propped on his elbow as he watched them unabashedly, Buffy’s hands found their way to the vampire’s ass to drive him deeper. The growl he emitted produced an answering one from her, and a second later Buffy cried out as she felt him break through her virginal barrier. As the pain washed over her, she couldn’t prevent her nails from digging deep into the flesh she held, the crescent marks oozing blood.  

~*~ 

Spike’s control snapped at realizing he’d been her first. He ripped his fangs from her throat, growling possessively. Fisting one hand in her hair, he yanked her head back and attacked her lips, his tongue boldly taking possession of her mouth. He felt her inner walls squeeze his length in response and couldn’t help the groan that escaped his mouth as he drove himself into her tight passage again and again as he sought his release. He pulled almost all the way out of her, knowing that this last thrust would send him over the edge– 

And felt a restraining grip on his throbbing dick.

_Angelus_. He turned to look almost guiltily at his sire, mentally cringing at his reproachful look as he gestured to the Slayer. Spike glanced down at his childe and wanted to kick his own arse. 

Her eyes were glazed over with lust, but even that was eclipsed by her hunger. Her bottom lip was bleeding where she’d bitten herself to keep from biting him, her demon knowing instinctively not to trespass without permission. 

Spike hung his head in shame, unsure what to fix first with his childe. She was starving, but to leave her body poised on the brink of orgasm also seemed cruel. 

~*~ 

Angel could see the tormented look on his childe’s face and took pity on him. Releasing his tight grip on Spike’s cock, he scooted closer to the pair, his actions finally drawing the notice of Buffy. 

“Angel?” 

“Shh…” he soothed, leaning in to brush a gentle kiss across her lips before she had time to react to his presence. He lifted his head a moment later, brushing her hair off her face. “You need to feed, Buffy.” 

He placed his wrist in front of her mouth and frowned when she just stared at it in confusion. 

~*~ 

Buffy. Her name was Buffy. 

And his sire had _known_ it. Known _her_. 

All those niggling fears he harbored deep within himself made him wonder if _he_ was the reason his sire had come… or if it had been for her. 

Spike pulled free of his childe, determined to put space between him and Angelus when he felt a strong hand clamp around his wrist. Then his sire was kneeling beside him, forcing him to look his way. 

“Don’t even think it. I came for _you_ , Will, no one else.” 

“And the Slayer?” 

“She was my means to redemption. I helped her with information about the Master… and ended up staking Darla to protect her.” 

“And now?” 

“It’s like you said. We’re family. We’ll have both. Like it was meant to be,” he murmured the last, leaning in to kiss him. Spike responded instantly, sinking into the elder vamp’s embrace and allowing his concerns to be assuaged. 

“Angel?” 

Buffy’s confused voice reluctantly pulled the two apart. Once more secure in his sire’s love, Spike turned to his childe. 

Confusion. Lust. Hunger. It was all there for him to see, and at Angelus’ urging, he resettled himself between Buffy’s legs. 

She responded instinctively, wrapping arms and legs around him as he positioned himself at her entrance and slid home. He bit back a groan as her inner walls stretched to accommodate him. When he was fully sheathed inside her, he rolled them so that she lay on top of him. 

“Feed, childe,” Spike murmured, drawing her to his neck. 

Buffy may have been confused, but the demon wasn’t – it needed no further urging to slake its hunger. 

Spike hissed in pleasure when her fangs pierced his neck, his hips giving an involuntary buck as she began to drink. A moment later, he nodded to Angelus. 

~*~ 

Angel stared in wonder at his childe. 

Surely he hadn’t… 

“It’s only right, Sire,” Spike murmured. 

Angel nodded once, unable to say anything. He’d not question his childe’s gift. 

Settling himself on his knees between Spike’s legs, he reached between his and Buffy’s joined bodies to coat the fingers of one hand; the other he used to gently squeeze his childe’s balls, smirking at the result: his name hissed like a reverent prayer while the younger vamp’s hips arched off the mattress, Buffy’s purr of pleasure as Spike’s cock thrust deep inside her pussy. 

As she continued to feed, Angel’s fingers rimmed her ass, preparing her. When she no longer flinched at his touch, he wormed a finger inside, pleased when she pushed back against him. A second finger soon joined the first, and then a third… sliding in and out of her until her hips were moving of their own accord. 

Sensing that she was ready, Angel looked up at his childe. At Spike’s nod of assent, he removed his fingers and positioned himself at her puckered entrance, pushing his way slowly past the tight sphincter. 

This time it was Angel who groaned as she took him to the hilt. A feeling of contentment washed over him and he realized that he was finally where he was meant to be. 

~*~ 

“Sire!” Buffy gasped as she tore her mouth from his neck at Angel’s invasion. She whimpered at the searing pain that seemed to snake up her insides. 

“Shhh…” he whispered in the same tone Angel had earlier. “Just relax, Buffy. It’ll feel better in a minute. Body’s just getting used to it, is all.” 

“Why is…? Is this…?” 

“We’re family. You. Me. Angelus. Can you feel it?” 

Buffy nodded hesitantly, her body beginning to relax between the two males. Her sire was right; the pain was starting to dissipate, leaving behind a yearning for… something. She watched him nod, and a second later felt hands at her hips holding her in place. Then they were both moving, the pair taking turns filling her with their hard lengths. 

It was too much for her. Too much. Too fast. It scared her. This unknown.  

She was all set to fight against it when she felt her sire’s eyes upon her. 

“Let it happen,” he urged her. 

Closing her eyes, she gave herself up to what the two vampires were making her feel. She could feel the pressure building within her womb, her body quickly reaching sensory overload as they never let up in their sensual assault. 

Buffy seemed to shatter into a thousand pieces as the first orgasm of her young life rushed through her body. Unprepared for anything of that magnitude, she screamed her release, oblivious to the people that might be around her. Afterward, she collapsed on top of her sire, wincing slightly when she felt Angel slide free. 

She felt a bit of movement beside her, then found herself rolled to her back, still intimately joined with her sire. 

~*~ 

Spike shifted so that Buffy was beneath him, then lifted them a bit so that Angelus could put a few pillows beneath her bum. She seemed willing enough… if slightly dazed. Heck, he was sure he wore the same expression. The thought of his sire at his back suppressed his Big Bad nature and turned him into the soppy poet once more. 

He didn’t care though. He was happy. 

Probably for the first time in over a century. 

He felt fingers probing his ass, and he growled at his sire to get on with it. He wasn’t going to break if he wasn’t properly “prepared.”

~*~ 

Angel growled and rammed his way home, goaded into action by his childe. He smelled the blood instantly and it fueled his bloodlust, causing him to thrust into Spike’s ass without mercy. 

Spike didn’t seem to mind, taking perverse pleasure in the pain he gave. Angel could see his face perfectly in his mind’s eye. Eyes half-lidded with passion, fangs biting into his bottom lip to keep from crying out, his hand wrapped around his own cock, sliding up and down its length in time to Angel’s thrust. Only this time, his childe’s shaft was buried deep in Buffy’s pussy, slowly bringing her off as her body jerked from his sire’s thrusts. 

It was that image that had him coming in long spurts deep within Spike’s ass, his fangs sinking into the younger vamp’s shoulder. 

Buffy and Spike not too far behind...


	4. Chapter 4

Spike felt Angelus shift behind him, remove his arm from around Spike’s middle and roll over to get out of bed. 

“You’re leaving?” he asked.

“I…I’ll be back. But, with Buffy’s…” Angel couldn’t bring himself to say death and his voice trailed off. 

Whatever Spike had done, Angel couldn’t find it in himself to be sorry. His childe had managed to bring them back together against all possible odds. Because even though he loved William as he did, with the Slayer – _Buffy_ – still alive and fighting evil, he wouldn’t have been able to force himself to give up his quest for redemption. But his fate, his path, had been tied to the girl, and now that she was among the undead, his cause was gone.  

True, he knew he’d never be able to kill again. To drink from the source. And, Spike, thank god, didn’t expect that of him. 

When he thought of all the time he’d wasted… 

A century that he could have been with his boy. The gypsies had had their revenge. Tearing him away from the _one_ thing that he’d cared about most. For over a hundred years, he’d lived in squalor, feeding off the dregs of society, finally being reduced to killing rodents for a meal, heartbroken over the boy he’d left behind. 

He cleared his throat, and glanced at his childe’s hurt expression. Angel knelt down beside the bed, his hand caressing the harsh angles of his boy’s cheekbones. 

“Her watcher’s gonna know. She wasn’t like other Slayers. Buffy had friends, a family. Giles is… he’s a good man, Will. He shouldn’t have to find out about his Slayer’s death from the Council.” 

Spike closed his eyes, leaning into his sire’s caress and nodded in understanding. “You’ll be careful? I don’t like the thought of you goin’ to his place and breakin’ the news of her death. I’ll not be happy if the bloke gets the drop on you and stakes you because your conscience won’t let you defend yourself against his anger. Maybe I should come with—” 

“No!” 

Spike arched a brow at that heated denial. He watched as Angelus stood and quickly dressed, for once waiting patiently for his sire to voice his reasons. 

“Look… Spike… _William_ … just do this for me,” he begged once he was dressed. “Stay here, please? Keep an eye on your childe until I get back. She’s going to need you, and if you go hieing off with me, she’ll go out on her own. You know how great their hunger is when they’re just turned. It makes them careless. Stay with Buffy. Make sure nothing happens to her. I’ll be back before you have a chance to miss me.” 

“I hardly doubt that as you haven’t even left yet, and already ‘m missin’ you,” Spike retorted. 

“William…” Angel closed the distance between him and Spike, sitting on the edge of the bed so he could pull Spike close. His lips found Spike’s unerringly, his tongue boldly thrusting inside. When he felt the buttons of his shirt start to give way, Angel jerked away. 

“I’ll be back soon. Stay out of trouble.” His voice was unnaturally brusque, worry for his family making his command harsher than he’d intended. Breathing a sigh of relief when Spike nodded once and curled back around Buffy. 

Angel walked to the door, mindful to grab a spare key from the table before he let himself out. He wasn’t looking forward to his talk with the watcher. Far from it, in fact. But, what he’d told Spike had been the truth. Maybe Giles could take some comfort in the fact that she wasn’t really dead, so much as undead. 

He walked down the hall and let himself outside, confident in the sun’s position. Only a faint glow shone in the sky where it had lowered behind the distant horizon, nightfall beckoning. 

It had been almost a full twenty-four hours since Buffy had last been seen, her lack of presence at class no doubt worrying both her watcher and her friends. Figuring the rag tag group would still be at school, no matter the lateness of the hour, he went there rather than to the older man’s flat. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Giles was just coming out of his office when Angel pushed his way through the library doors. His anger and desolation evident as he staggered to the table where Buffy’s friends had gathered, plopping himself disconsolately in one of the chairs. 

“Giles? Giles, what is it? Is it…Buffy?” Willow swallowed around the lump in her throat and managed to get her friend’s name out. 

After both she and Xander had seen the distraught girl away from danger, they’d returned to the Bronze, expecting to find their friend waiting inside. When Buffy was a no-show, the pair had begun to worry before realizing that she had probably gone home – it being a school night after all. 

When she hadn’t shown the next morning, both had skipped their first class and raced to the library to inform Giles. He’d ordered them back to class, taking the burden of the missing slayer firmly on his shoulders. How he’d not staggered under the weight was anyone’s guess. 

Now, several hours later, Willow had seen that weight cripple the man that was like a surrogate father to them all. 

“I… she’s… that was Quentin Travers, the head of the Watcher’s Council. He’s just informed me of a new Slayer being called and that he needed my final reports of Buffy’s ‘shortcomings’… can you believe it? The wanker actually said ‘shortcomings’! I’ve a good mind to deliver my report in person to let him know what I think of his terminology.” 

He stood abruptly, a sweep of his hands sending the books on the table flying from its surface. 

Both Xander and Willow watched him without comprehending. It wasn’t until Angel made himself known, his whispered, “The only time a slayer’s called is when the previous one dies,” explaining things to the two. 

As the realization of the vampire’s words washed over them, shock and disbelief waged battle on the pair’s faces before they crumpled in sorrow. 

Angel watched, detached, as the watcher continued to rage against the fates by demolishing the books that had, in part, been the means of his charge’s destruction. How Willow threw herself into her friend’s arms and began sobbing uncontrollably, Xander’s own eyes moist with tears he refused to let fall. 

He thought about telling them of Buffy’s situation, but in the end, decided against it. 

Better for them to think she’d died, defending them as was her calling. They’d deal with the pain of her loss and move on. 

The biggest obstacle was going to be Buffy’s mother. She’d no inkling of the kind of life her daughter had led. Explaining her death, let alone, the lack of a body, was going to be difficult. 

Silently, he let himself out of the library. He’d make a quick sweep of the cemeteries, then return home. To Spike… and Buffy. The three had some decisions to make, not the least of which was regarding Spike’s sire, Drusilla, and how the Anointed One was going to react to what Spike had done. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Angel could hear them as he walked down the hallway leading to their room, and he hurried his pace. His fingers fumbled with the key, the sounds of their lovemaking and the scent of their blood on the air making them shake. 

He needed to be inside. Right now. Watching. Participating. The key finally clicked home and the locking mechanism released. He opened the door and froze; his cock hardened in an instant at the image the two made on the bed. 

Buffy was on her knees, her hands gripping the headboard. Spike was fucking her from behind, his hands digging into her hips, fangs buried in her neck. Blood was dripping from several holes on both of their bodies - which was why their scent had been so overwhelming in the hall. 

Spike tore his mouth away from Buffy’s throat and pinned his sire with a look, clearly telling the elder to hurry up and quit gawking. 

“Sire,” Buffy whimpered at the loss of his fangs, how his movements had slowed to almost nothing. She was so close, his cock filling her ass promising her one hell of an orgasm. He’d made her hurt so good, she’d momentarily forgotten the absence of Angel.  

Her amber gaze flicked to the vampire swiftly removing his clothes, her senses just now detecting his presence. She licked her lips as the last article fell away and he hurried forward. Buffy felt her sire surge up into her once more, then drape his body over her back. His fingers gripped her wrists, and she realized that he wanted her to let go, which she eagerly did. Then he sat on his haunches, pulling her back with him, making a spot for Angel in front of them. 

Angel arranged the pillows and settled himself in front of Buffy. Spike had splayed his legs wide allowing Angel to slide his between them and stretch out on the bed beneath them. 

“Hold on to my neck, luv, and squeeze my thighs tight,” he murmured in Buffy’s ear. 

Buffy eagerly complied, ready and waiting for what was to come. Her eyes locked with those of the vampire beneath her, watching as he stroked his cock a few times while he waited for her to be lowered down onto it. 

Spike wrapped one arm around Buffy’s waist to hold her in place and used the other to balance himself as he shifted them both down towards Angelus. He felt his sire’s steadying hand, guiding him in the direction he needed to go. Beneath him, Buffy mewled like a kitten, feeling the first brush of Angelus’ cock against her opening. Then Spike was groaning too as his sire thrust deep inside her pussy, feeling the glide of the other’s cock through the thin barrier of skin that separated them. 

Buffy released her sire and draped herself over Angel, nuzzling his neck as the two struck up a heavenly rhythm inside her body; she purred her contentment at being stretched so completely.  

Angel felt fangs gliding along his neck and looked enquiringly up at his childe. At Spike’s nod, he moved one hand from her hip to the back of her head, urging her to take a taste. 

“’s ok, luv. Have a taste,” Spike told her, his motions never ceasing. 

She needed no further encouragement and eagerly bit into Angel’s neck, climaxing at the taste of Angel’s blood. Not to mention the increased thrusts of the males above and below her. 

Angel was the first to join her, vamping as the pleasure became too great and piercing her throat with his sharp canines. The added stimulation of Spike’s cock drew out his orgasm until it bordered on pain – his childe knew how to play his body so well. But then, so too, did he. He bit deeper into Buffy’s throat, sending another, more powerful climax racing through her body, his eyes pinned on Spike’s face as he reared back and let himself go, fucking his childe’s ass mercilessly while he came.

“Bastard,” Spike mumbled without inflection as, finally spent, he collapsed on top of Buffy to seek a kiss from his sire. 

Angel’s rumbled chuckle jarred the pair and he smiled around the hard peck his childe gave him. Using the last of his strength, he rolled them to the side so they could slide free from Buffy’s body. That Spike didn’t immediately insinuate himself between him and Buffy showed that he believed him when he’d spoken earlier. That, or he was too sated to move. He liked to believe it was the former reason, and lifted his head to find his childe staring intently at him. His blue eyes startlingly piercing in their regard. 

“The watcher?” he asked. 

“He’d just been told when I arrived, apparently word had been received of a new slayer being called. I decided against elaborating more. I’ll leave it to him to explain about Buffy to her mother.” 

Buffy had let their voices float over her, but at the mention of her mother, she couldn’t keep quiet. 

“Mommy?” she whimpered, sounding more like a little girl and less like the vampiress she’d become. “Angel?” Seeing his dispassionate expression, she rolled over to plead with her sire. “Sire?” 

Spike broke eye contact with Angel and stared down at the tearful face of his childe. “Angelus is right, luv. Better to leave it to the watcher to explain things,” he told her, attempting to soothe her as he pushed her hair behind her ear. 

“But she’s my mom,” Buffy whimpered. “She doesn’t know… didn’t know... about me being the slayer. She’s not going to understand… please, sire.” 

“Sire, please,” she added when he’d still to say anything. 

Spike was going to regret it, he just knew he was. But, he remembered what he’d been like, wanting to take care of his mother, keep her by his side forever. Seemed kind of hypocritical not to let the girl say goodbye. 

“Alright, I’ll scope it out, but if I don’t like anything about the situation, it’s not gonna happen, yeah?” 

“Thank you, sire,” she exclaimed as she threw her arms about him and hugged him close. 

“You can use my name, pet. No need to be so bloody formal,” he griped, hugging her back. 

“Will?” 

“Oh, sod it all. It’s Spike. Not that poofterish William,” Spike griped. 

“I kinda like William,” Buffy replied shyly. 

“To me, he’ll always be William,” Angel interjected, leaning over Buffy to plant a kiss on his disgruntled boy’s lips.  

Buffy giggled at their antics, then pouted when Spike pulled away and got out of bed. 

“Where are you going?” Angel demanded. 

“Got some scouting to do, don’t I? Sooner that’s done, the sooner we can leave this place behind.”

“I’ll come with you.” Angel moved to get out of the bed. 

“No. Stay and watch Buffy.” 

Angel’s eyebrows rose hearing his own words tossed back at him, but he nodded and settled back against the pillows, pulling Buffy to his side. It was still too soon to go off and leave Buffy alone, and as a young fledge, it was also too soon for her to steal out into the night with them - and not run the risk of getting caught. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Spike had obtained the address for Buffy’s mom’s home as well as the gallery where she worked before pressing a quick kiss to both of their lips and leaving their rented room. He’d gone by the gallery first, figuring the woman would be working late. 

He settled in to wait, frowning when the woman walked out about a half hour later without a care in the world for her safety. Her behavior seemed shocking to him, given the town’s reputation for its numerous deaths from unexplained neck wound injuries. Honestly, she was a meal just waiting to happen. 

She walked to her Jeep, oblivious to his presence, her gaze on her purse as she fumbled for her keys rather than on her surroundings. 

He drummed his fingers on his steering wheel and huffed under his breath when she finally found them and unlocked her car door. She started her vehicle and moved off, and Spike waited a minute before starting the Desoto and following after her.  

Surprisingly, she went straight home, but the sight of another man - the slayer’s watcher, Spike guessed from the look of him - stepping from his vehicle as she pulled into the driveway did not bode well. He pulled around the corner and parked the car, quickly shutting off the ignition so that he could be privy to their conversation. Peering into the living room window produced no results, and he hurried around the side of the house, easily vaulting the fence, and made his way towards the other rooms around back. 

They were in the kitchen and the watcher was bumbling in his attempt to explain what had happened to the woman’s daughter. She seemed to listen in growing disbelief, like she was placating the man for as long as possible before she was able to send him on his way. When he mentioned her death, Spike watched as her features hardened and she demanded the man leave. She turned on her heel, racing up the stairs as she called out her daughter’s name.   

Spike vaulted onto the roof and then dropped down onto the overhang just seconds before light flooded the Slayer’s bedroom as her mother hurried inside.

Seeing it empty came as a shock to the woman, and he watched as her face crumpled before she shook it off and started ransacking the room. 

Nothing stood out as unusual until she searched the closet; her hands closed around a huge leather bag and dragged it out into the room. She fiddled with the zipper, emotions getting the better of her and making her fumble with the fastenings. When she finally opened it, she gasped in shock, her hands automatically covering her mouth as she stared aghast at the items inside. 

“I’m sorry, Joyce,” Giles murmured as he stepped inside the room. “Buffy… she… was a remarkable young woman.” 

“Get out,” she hissed, her eyes never leaving the bag. “Get out of my house and never come back.” 

“Yes… um… well…” 

“Get out!” she screamed as she covered her ears, rocking back and forth, her body shaking with silent sobs as the weight of her daughter’s death assaulted her. 

Spike had seen enough. There was no way he was going to let the woman suffer any more than she had to. He’d take Buffy to see her mother one final time, and then they’d leave. It was doubtful that the watcher would be back, and he’d like to put some distance between himself and Drusilla before dawn. 

He’d leave her fate, and that of the Anointed One, in the hands of the new slayer, whoever she may be. 

It was time for him to make up for lost time. Time for him to have the family he’d lost so long ago.


	5. Chapter 5

When Spike walked back inside, Angel knew right away that something had happened. For one thing, his boy hadn’t been gone all that long. He and Buffy had barely begun watching some program on the ancient television sitting perched on top of the rickety stand across from the bed – though truthfully neither one had really been paying all that much attention to it, instead spending the time discussing the slayer’s changed status – when his childe had returned. At a look from the other, Angel disentangled himself from Buffy and stood up, walking over to where Spike stood. “What is it, Will?” 

Spike gave an imperceptible shake of his head… and he knew. Giles hadn’t wasted any time telling Buffy’s mother. And apparently it hadn’t gone well given the hard look on Spike’s face. 

Angel reached out and pulled Spike close, allowing him a moment to get control of his emotions. Projecting his worry on Buffy wouldn’t help matters – neither of the two particularly needed to deal with an emotional fledgling. 

“Come on, luv. Let’s get you dressed,” Spike directed his comment to the girl lounging on the bed as he stepped away from his sire, his voice betraying none of his concerns. There were so many things that could go wrong with Buffy seeing her mother, and he was happy that he had Angelus to keep him from flying off the handle at the least provocation. 

Buffy squealed with delight and jumped from the bed, racing towards her sire and throwing herself in his arms. “We’re going to see my mom, aren’t we?” 

“Yeah, pet. Then, afterwards… well…” He broke off, unsure how to proceed. 

“What Spike is trying to say is that we can’t stay here. There are things… suffice to say, it’s time to move on. Leave the Hellmouth behind.” 

“But what about Giles, and Willow, and Xander?” Her confused gaze shifted between the two vampires before finally settling on Angel. 

“I’m sorry, Buffy. Giles had just received the call from the Watcher’s Council when I arrived.” 

“’s for the best, pet.” 

“Spike’s right. As much as I know that Giles cares for you… if word got out that you’d been turned… the Council…” 

“We’d spend the next century lookin’ over our shoulder,” Spike finished.  

It was too much for her – the tag team conversation as the pair seemed to complete each other’s sentences. Giles. Her friends. Her mom. She was just supposed to leave them behind?  Spike hugged her close, trying to soothe the rampant emotions churning within her. “They think you’re dead, luv. Your friends’ll grieve for a time, then move on. Your place is with us now. You’ve a new family to look after you.” 

He leaned back a bit and put his fingers beneath her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. 

He didn’t say anything, instead looking into her eyes and willing her to understand. To accept. To let go of her past and embrace her future. With them. Buffy got lost in her sire’s eyes, their dark blue hue wise to the ways of men and demon alike, and knew he was right. She wasn’t the slayer anymore. Hell, since she’d killed the Master something had been off with her. Things she couldn’t explain to her watcher, her friends, or even Angel… before now. 

When she’d seen her sire – Spike – emerging from the shadows, she’d known. Like a moth to the flame, she’d been drawn to him. His whispered urgings to drink as he’d slowly drained her life force, too powerful for her to resist. She’d embraced it. Embraced him, and the darkness he could give her. 

What her slayer self spent the past year straddling - that line between darkness and light. 

She nodded her understanding. It was time to leave her past behind. Forge a new future with the two vampires standing so close to her. 

Buffy the Vampire Slayer had died. In her place had risen a new Buffy. One that her friends, her watcher, even her mother, could not understand. And in that moment, she felt free. Freer than she’d been since that fateful day in Los Angeles. The day Merrick had shown up and turned her world upside down. 

“Do you have something for me to put on,” she asked her sire, voice sultry as she looked up at him from beneath her lowered lashes. 

“Just wear what you wore the other night. You can get a fresh set of togs at your mum’s.” 

She nodded and pulled away, hips sashaying seductively as she crossed the room to get dressed. 

Spike watched her with a predatory gleam in his eyes as the muscles in her ass and legs rippled with movement. 

“See how she’s beginning to embrace it now?” The husky whisper at his ear caused him to shiver in anticipation, but it was the grip to the bulge in his pants, the way his sire draped his arms around him and drew him back against his chest that caused him to moan in delight. Spike was set to turn in his sire’s arms and ravage the elder’s lips, but the grip on his upper body prevented the action. 

“Watch her,” Angel whispered, nipping at the blond vampire’s ear. The hand on his crotch shifted and Spike let out another moan, in despair this time. He sagged in his sire’s embrace when he felt a slight fumbling with his belt, the buttons of his jeans giving way allowing his engorged cock to spring out into Angelus’ waiting hand. A soft whoosh and a clank of metal sounded as his jeans fell from his lean hips to pool around his ankles. 

“Angelus,” Spike hissed as he began stroking him. 

“Look at her. See how she’s teasing us? Ass in the air, her pussy glistening with arousal as she bends down to grab at her discarded clothes…?” 

Angel knew he should stop tormenting his childe so that they could go see Buffy’s mother one last time. It hadn’t been all that long, yet it felt like an eternity since he’d been buried deep inside Spike. His eyes strayed from where his hand was slowly driving his childe crazy, over to where Buffy lay back on the bed pleasuring herself with her fingers. Having smelled their arousal, heard his words spoken to Spike, all pretext of her getting dressed was now gone. 

“Smells good, doesn’t it?” Angel asked. 

Spike nodded, eyes glued to the sight of his childe as she finger-fucked herself. The visual and tactile stimulation were edging him closer to orgasm, the whispered plea escaping his lips before he could contain it. 

“Please what, Will?” Angel’s voice had taken on his Irish lilt. “Ye wanna taste her? Stick yer tongue inside her and make her scream?” 

“Sire,” Spike whimpered. 

“Take yer coat off.” 

Spike struggled to do as Angelus asked, ready to rip the thing to shreds when it wouldn’t come off fast enough. The second it fell free, his sire’s cock nudged him in the ass as he stood naked behind him. He’d forgotten that. How could he have forgotten that Angelus had crawled naked from the bed once he’d arrived back at the room? 

“Angelus.” Again his voice sounded like a plaintive mewl, but he didn’t care. 

“On yer knees,” the elder vampire rasped, and Spike didn’t hesitate to sink to all fours, his legs going as wide as they were able with his jeans locked around his ankles. Angel followed his childe to the floor, his hand never letting up on his lazy rhythm as he steadily stroked Spike’s cock. His own cock mimicked the actions of his hand, his length gliding back and forth along the underside of his ass, the tip nudging the other’s balls. His canines trailed back and forth along his childe’s neck causing little rivulets of blood to ooze from the cuts he’d made. Angel closed his eyes in ecstasy as his raspy tongue lapped at the droplets. 

“Tell me what you want, Will.” 

Spike was panting with need. Didn’t matter that he no longer needed to breathe. It was instinctual, his body swept away along a tide of lust. 

“Need you, sire,” he managed to gasp out. “Need… argh… Angelus…” The name was drawn out as Spike was suddenly filled to bursting as Angelus forced his way past his tight sphincter. As his skin tore and the scent of Spike’s blood hit the air, neither vampire could hold back their growls. 

“This what you need?” Angel demanded. His hand constricted around Spike’s shaft as Angel plowed into his ass – not that his childe minded in the slightest. Reveling in the violence of the elder vampire he’d been separated from for the last century.  

Angel should have been shocked at his behavior, his sudden need to dominate, to claim; he still bore a soul after all. That he delighted in Spike’s pain surprised him, no matter how much the younger vamp got off on it. His face was awash with pleasure – head thrown back, eyes closed, mouth opened on a soundless gasp. Angel’s gaze shifted from his childe to Buffy, forgetting for a moment, her presence. He wasn’t surprised to see that she’d stilled on the bed, the scent of her sire’s blood on the air too strong for her to ignore. She didn’t seem appalled by what he was doing, especially given that a few days ago he’d confessed to being jealous of her friend, Xander. And now… now he was driving his cock so hard into her sire’s ass that Spike was biting his lip to keep from crying out. 

“Come over here, Buffy,” he called out, his hips never pausing in their movements. 

Buffy quickly scrambled off the bed to stand in front of the pair. She’d been enjoying teasing her sire, Angel too. Since waking, she couldn’t seem to get enough of them. Between the blood they fed her and they way they filled her – sometimes together, sometimes separately – she was happy to while away her time right there. Actually looked on their room as their little home. She’d been content in their little world until they’d mentioned her mother. Then something inside her had shoved its way to the forefront of her thoughts, demanding to be heard.  

Her mom, Giles, and the others – she wanted to let them know that she was safe. That she was… happy. And she was. Her sire gave her what she’d secretly been craving. Having Angel too, was a bonus. Though, she’d been nervous at first upon waking and seeing him there. 

But, the two had talked when Spike left to check on her mother. That he’d not seemed upset, or disgusted by the three of them together had gone a long way towards making everything seem right with her. He’d been so accepting of Spike, of her with him, and now that she knew their history, she understood why. 

“Lay down in front of him.” 

Angel’s words brought her out of her reverie, and she quickly complied with his directions. She lay there, waiting to see what would happen next, and was rewarded moments later when her sire lowered his head and began laving at her pussy. Buffy’s hips arched off the floor as Spike’s tongue went to work. Her fingers fisted in his blond curls, holding him in place. Not that he seemed intent on leaving anytime soon – it just gave her hands something to do. 

His fangs sliced into her clit and she screamed Spike’s name as her body convulsed beneath him. He was right behind her, the ceaseless motions of Angel and the taste of her blood driving him over the edge. 

Angel gazed down at both of them and let himself go. With a snarl, he leaned over Spike’s back and sunk his fangs in his shoulder. His childe’s blood flooded his mouth and he drunk it down greedily. He needed to come, so he tore his fangs free while at the same time letting go of Spike’s flagging cock to grip his lean hips, holding him in place as he slammed in and out of his childe’s ass. His lower body finally stiffened in release and he used his hands to draw Spike down onto his cock again and again until he was wrung dry. 

Completely spent, Angel sat back on his haunches and slid free from Spike’s abused passage. He watched as Spike fell forward onto Buffy, purring in contentment. Unwilling to be left out, he stretched out until he halfway covered Spike with his own body. Spike didn’t appear to mind, actually gifting him with a dazed smile over his shoulder. Angel basked in the love shining in the younger male’s eyes, squeezing him tight to let him know he felt the same way. 

Some time later, Angel reluctantly drew away. They needed to shower before they went to Joyce’s and time was getting away from them. He nudged Spike, who in turn prodded Buffy from her spot at the bottom of the pile. 

“It’s getting late,” Angel commented. He sat up, dragging the shoes and pants from Spike’s legs so that he could get up too. “After we get dressed, we’ll stop by my place before going to Joyce’s. That way we can leave straight from there.” 

They hurried through their shower and were dressed and out of the motel room within thirty minutes. Buffy sat in the back of the DeSoto as Spike drove to Angel’s apartment. Now that the time had come, she was starting to feel— 

Honestly, she didn’t know _how_ she felt. 

“C’mere, kitten,” Spike called out as Angel exited the vehicle to get a few things. Buffy needed no further urgings and quickly climbed into the front seat and cuddled on her sire’s lap. “What’s wrong, luv?” 

Unable to explain her feelings, she snuggled into Spike’s chest and closed her eyes, lying there until Angel returned. 

Angel arched a brow in question at Spike as he resettled himself in the front seat. Spike shrugged his shoulders, indicating with his head that he should take Buffy from him. 

“Come here, Buffy. Spike needs to drive.” 

Buffy opened her eyes and looked at Angel. At his beckoning expression, she scrambled off Spike and curled up in Angel’s lap. Her eyes drifted shut again, and the ride to her mother’s was made in silence.


	6. Chapter 6

“I don’t like it,” Spike grumbled. 

“I know you don’t. I don’t either, if you want to know the truth. But, Buffy… she’s got to reconcile her past to make way for her future.” 

“And she can’t do that with us there?” 

Angel rolled his eyes at his childe’s impatience.  

“She didn’t say we couldn’t be there… only to give her a few minutes alone with her mother first.” 

“Still don’t like it. What if she attacks her own mum?” 

“She won’t attack… shit!” 

His hand was on the knob and he was out the door the next instant, Spike right behind him and cursing at their stupidity. The pair raced around the corner and up the cement walkway. The front door stood open, a hindrance to Spike, but not Angel – unless Joyce was already dead. 

The lack of the scent of blood on the air and someone’s heartfelt sobs didn’t register with either vampire as they gained the front porch. Angel, still thinking he had open access to the Slayer’s place, had actually bounced off the invisible barrier and would have fallen to the ground if Spike hadn’t steadied him.  

_‘When the hell had she had a disinvite spell done?’_ Angel wondered, rubbing his jaw as he stepped back up to the door’s threshold. 

What greeted them was something neither vampire would have expected.  

Buffy was sitting with her back against the wall in the front entryway near the kitchen. Joyce was clinging to her daughter, her arms about Buffy’s middle, sobbing hysterically. Buffy was in full game face, stroking her mom’s hair, a low soothing growl emanating from her throat. She looked up at their approach, her amber eyes unable to conceal her helplessness. 

“Sire?” she whimpered. 

“It’s alright, luv. You just sit there an’ hold her. She’ll wind down soon enough, yeah?” 

She nodded at his reassuring tone, relieved to have the two males near. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, her mother clinging to her with a death grip, that, had she been human, would have probably cracked a few of her ribs. Her hands never stopped their ceaseless petting as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. Finally, her mother began to calm, and Buffy’s anxiety abated, enabling her to subdue her demon. Ridges and fangs faded away until anyone looking at her would think nothing amiss. 

“Buffy?” Angel’s voice called out from the entryway. “Your mother is starting to drift off. See if you can rouse her to let us in.” 

She nodded, indicating that she’d heard him and gently nudged her mother’s shoulder. 

“Mom? Mom? I’ve got some friends I want you to meet… well, more like family, I guess you could say.” 

“Hmmm? Huh…? Buffy?” Joyce sat up abruptly and looked upon her daughter’s face. Her hand lifted, almost afraid to believe. That her little girl might disappear any second. “I wasn’t dreaming….” 

“No… I’m still here. Well, sorta anyway.”  

Her eyes shifted to the open front door and the two males waiting patiently on the other side, drawing her mother’s gaze as well. The elder woman gasped upon seeing them, embarrassed at having been caught clinging to her daughter on the floor. 

“It’s ok, mom. They’re ahh… they’re with me.” 

“With you? Buffy? I don’t understand.” 

“Spike… the one on the left… he’s my sire. Angel…he’s Spike’s sire.” 

“Spike? Angel? What kind of names are those? Buffy who… what—?” 

Buffy stiffened in defense of her sire, the ridges on her brow becoming prominent, her fangs elongating. 

Joyce gasped at the same time both Spike and Angel yelled for Buffy to stop.  

Buffy looked from them to her mother as Joyce back-pedaled away from her until her back was against the opposite wall. She glared at her mom and struggled to bring her rising rage under control, a difficult feat given her age and a childe’s inborn tendencies to defend their sire. 

“Joyce, be a luv and invite us in,” Spike called out from the open doorway. “Buffy may be your daughter, but she’s a bit young to be dealing with her demon’s need to defend me.” 

Joyce stared at the eighties fashion reject and the brooding dark-haired man by his side and shook her head in disbelief. She couldn’t believe she was actually considering— 

“Come in…both of you.” 

There really hadn’t been a choice. She was desperate to learn why her daughter was still… _alive_. And the two just now stepping across her threshold seemed to be the only ones that could supply her with answers. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

An hour later, Joyce was still staring in disbelief at her daughter, how she sat curled between the two males, a smile upon her face. Not since before that incident in Los Angeles – the fire at the school gymnasium – had she seen her daughter so happy… and carefree. And Spike and Angel seemed to care about her, and each other, if the smoldering looks cast between the two – when they thought she wasn’t looking – was any indication. 

“But what about Giles? Surely—” 

“He can’t know,” Angel told her. “No one can, Mrs. Summers. If the Council caught one whiff that your daughter had been turned, they wouldn’t rest until she’d been hunted down and staked.” 

“But that’s barbaric! She’s…she’s…” 

“A vampire, luv. And Buffy was once the slayer. The ‘one girl in all the world’ and all that rot. You don’t think it would get their knickers in a twist to see their shining example of all that was good and light being corrupted?” 

“That’s enough, Will,” Angel cut in. Spike growled at being chastised, but held his tongue. Angel ignored him and tried to explain their situation to the woman. 

“Since the first slayer, only about a handful of instances have been recorded where a slayer was turned. Of those, all of them… every single last one of them… has been staked inside a year. Most were… uh… dealt with before they’d even risen.” 

“Dealt with?” Joyce asked, confused. 

Angel just shook his head, indicating that it was bad, and for once Spike didn’t jump in to clarify for his sire. Beheading a vampire before they’d risen was not a pretty sight. For one thing, they didn’t dust like normal vamps. Second, there was no sense of closure for the sire – the unsevered bond was something that ate at the siring vampire until it drove it crazy. 

Joyce took the hint and dropped it. 

“So, what will you do?” 

“We’re leaving Sunnydale,” Angelv answered. “We’re already packed, as a matter of fact. Giles thinks Buffy’s been killed, so do her friends. We’ll disappear before anyone’s the wiser.” 

“Leave?” Joyce tried to mask the quaver in her voice, but wasn’t completely successful. 

“We can’t stay here. To do so would mean Buffy’s instant death sentence. We just couldn’t leave without your daughter… well, Spike saw what the news did to you. At least this way you’ll know she’ll be looked after.” 

“Yeah… and if you ever decide to leave Sunnyhell behind, we might be inclined to visit,” Spike added. 

Angel stood, indicating it was time for them to leave.  

Joyce stood as well, bravely fighting back tears as her daughter prepared to disappear from her life forever. “Y-you…you’ll be able to find me… if… if I ever do leave?” 

“Of course… just… stay away from Cleveland. I hear Paris is nice. Great place to set up a gallery,” Angel hinted. 

“Paris…” Joyce murmured, pondering the French city. She nodded at the male vampire. “Say goodbye to your mum, luv. Angelus and I’ll be in the car. Don’t be long, yeah?” Spike pulled Buffy close and gave her a quick kiss to her brow. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

The teary goodbye had been unexpected for Buffy. She’d been subjected to another round of rib-bruising hugs. Tears that had fallen without remorse from her mother’s eyes as she’d gazed upon Buffy one last time had been mimicked in the watery eyes of her daughter. Where the emotional response cropped up from was a mystery to the former Slayer – perhaps a lingering human characteristic of hers. She felt something for her mother, but it was nothing like what she felt for Spike and Angel. Then there was the special bond she shared with Spike; she’d have to ask him once she got back to the car. 

With her mind wandering, Buffy failed to notice the dark-haired vampiress until she’d practically bumped into her. She jumped back, her body automatically going into a defensive pose reminiscent of her slayer days – an action which caused the woman to laugh delightedly. 

“Oh... my Spike has been a naughty, _naughty_ boy,” she sing-songed as she danced around the girl. 

Buffy stiffened at her sire’s name being spoken by the obviously crazed vampiress twirling about her, but when the woman did nothing more than that, she relaxed her stance.  

Which was just what the other had been waiting for. 

Drusilla struck Buffy’s face with a sharp claw, causing a red line to appear. The crazed vampiress’ eyes narrowed at the evidence of the fledgling’s lineage, and she hissed as she caught scent of another…older vampire…in their line. Angelus. Daddy. 

“Naughty Spike… turning the Slayer to keep for his own,” she growled. “He promised me I could have you.”  Drusilla danced closer. “Don’t you want to… come with me… be with me…?” 

She was looking deeply in the girl’s eyes, forcing her mind to bend to her whim. 

“No… Spike is…” Buffy’s voice trailed off as she was sucked into the vampiress’ trance. She stood motionless while the other female leaned in and licked the blood from her cheek. 

“So sweet,” Drusilla murmured. 

“Back off, Dru,” Spike growled. 

Drusilla hissed and leaned away from the girl.  

“Bad puppy! Not wanting to share your toys. Miss Edith will be so cross.” 

“Sod Miss Edith! Get away from Buffy!” 

Spike was caught between rage and fear as Drusilla stood near his childe – the unpredictability of his sire something he’d dealt with often in the past. He watched her every move as she continued to dance around Buffy. When she stopped suddenly and turned rage-filled eyes on him, he unconsciously swallowed. 

“You think to replace me with her!” she bellowed accusingly. 

“Dru…” He tried to placate her, well aware of her mercurial temper. “It’s not like that.” 

She cocked her head to the side, eyes surprisingly clear. “You would lie to your sire? William, William, William… now you must be punished. And, I think your childe will do… those lovies in England—” 

“No!” he raged. 

“Drusilla.” The voice was low, but Drusilla heard it nonetheless. 

“Daddy!” Drusilla whirled around, flying towards Angelus who had just stepped into the front yard from the back of the house. She’d almost reached him when she stopped suddenly. “You’re not my Daddy!” 

“Yes, Dru. It’s me. Come give Daddy a kiss.” 

Meanwhile, Spike had reached Buffy’s side and drew her into his protective embrace. His hands were everywhere, assuring himself of her well-being. 

Angel was continuing his enticement, drawing his childe closer to him and away from the blonde couple. 

“You’re not him. But I see a bit…” She took another hesitant step forward. 

He affected a leer. “Wouldn’t deny me a bit of blood, would you, Princess?” Fangs elongated and his brow erupted with the ridges of his demon. “Hmmm?” 

Drusilla plastered herself against the length of her sire and she bared her neck to him, giggling crazily as the grip about her back tightened. She delighted in the strong hold… it had been so long. And she’d been such a good girl. Which was why she obediently did like he asked. 

Angel gripped her hair and tugged, something that thrilled Drusilla and caused her to coo in delight. His head lowered towards the marks he’d given her, and he recollected with sorrow the way she’d been turned – how evil he’d been before William had come into his life. Darla had done a number on him, taken him to the extreme, nurtured his demon’s sadistic nature as she tried to stomp out every last trace of his humanity. 

It had been William that had brought it back. One look at his fathomless blue eyes had been enough to know what he’d wanted. 

He growled near her throat, his childe completely unsuspecting as he brought his stake forward and sunk it into her unbeating heart. His eyes closed momentarily and he mourned the innocent girl she once was – before he’d gotten his fangs in her. Maybe now she would be at peace. Something she’d never had the entirety of her vampiric life. 

Angel opened his eyes and started towards the blonde couple. Both were staring at him with something between shock and awe. 

“It had to be done, Will. Better it be me.” 

Spike nodded, reconciling what Angelus had done. As much as he’d come to loathe being with his sire, Spike knew that he would never have been able to stake her. Even _with_ his own childe at risk. 

He shook his head to will away the disturbing thoughts. Better for him to not have to choose between sire and childe.  

As Angel reached their side, he gasped as Spike practically threw himself in his arms and hugged him close. 

“Love you, Angelus,” he mumbled into his sire’s neck. 

Angel fought back tears and he hugged the younger male back. 

“Love you too, Will. Now come on. It really is past time to go.” 

Spike nodded and pulled away. He smiled suddenly as it dawned on him. 

He was finally free.  _They_ were finally free. No more Darla. No more Dru. Just him, his sire, and Buffy. It had only taken a hundred odd years and a lot of heartache, but they’d done it. He leered at his sire then turned around. Catching Buffy low about the hips, he slung her over his shoulder – to her squealing delight – and started for his car. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

_Paris, France_ _  
__Nine months later_

Joyce waved to the proprietress next door as she let herself in to her small gallery. Angel had been right; Paris had been the perfect place to relocate her gallery. Her shop specialized in local up-and-coming artists, her eye for art making it thrive. 

She set her purse and keys down on her cluttered desk and walked into the back room that she’d turned into her office. Glancing at all the clutter lying about, she once more thought about hiring a young girl or boy to work part-time to help keep her organized. She almost missed the sketch on the desk. 

As she walked around behind her desk to grab her coffee cup, she caught it out of the corner of her eye… and gasped. 

It was her. 

She was standing inside the shop, gesturing to a new portrait she’d recently acquired from one of the locals. Just last night, in fact. 

She started to panic, scared that someone had been watching her long enough to actually draw the thing. After a minute, she shoved her worry aside and eyed the sketch. The picture itself was flawless, even if it had been drawn on lined notebook paper, with nothing more than a regular pencil. Her eyes scanned the entire sheet for a hint of the mystery artist – it was a rare artist that wouldn’t sign their work. 

In the bottom right corner, in one of the brick squares lining her shop’s front window, she found it… 

Angelus. 


End file.
